


Make it stop

by RonaldRx



Series: BPD!RomanSionis - Vent Fics [1]
Category: Birds of Prey (And the Fantabulous Emancipation of One Harley Quinn) (2020)
Genre: BOP Roman Sionis has BPD, Borderline Personality Disorder, Childhood Trauma, Dissociation, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Idk what else to tag this lol, Intrusive Thoughts, M/M, No cutting but other things that will be listed in my notes, Panic Attacks, Past Child Abuse, Self-Harm, Trauma, Triggers, Victor Zsasz is actually a good bf, Violent Thoughts, against himself, also mentions of murder because uh duh, author has bpd otherwise i wouldn't have written this, because i say so and because I'm projecting onto my comfort character, so mind all that pls, sue me, vent fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-03
Updated: 2020-11-03
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:55:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27373051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RonaldRx/pseuds/RonaldRx
Summary: Roman has BPD (not that he knows. This man has never seen a therapist in his life) and is having an episode because he was triggered and chilhood trauma was brought up by it.
Relationships: Roman Sionis/Victor Zsasz
Series: BPD!RomanSionis - Vent Fics [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2000488
Comments: 4
Kudos: 30





	Make it stop

**Author's Note:**

> Hi!
> 
> So, as you may have figured through the tags: I have BPD and this fic is extremely personal. I'm uploading it anyway, because why not. I used to write vent fics like that from when I was 13 to 16 y/o and idk why I stopped because it really helps, when I can't draw or nothing else helps, lol. 'Cause I was triggered a few hours ago and couldn't calm the fuck down. This helped. I'll go to sleep, now.  
> Anyway, this basically describes what a BPD episode can look like for me. I am projecting heavily on Roman because he is my comfort character but also because him having BPD isn't too far-fetched, ngl.  
> Read with caution, please.  
> TW // Self harm: Scratching, punching & hitting oneself, pulling on hair  
> also TW // violent intrusive thoughts, short but graphic nonetheless
> 
> I repeat: Read this with caution, if at all.
> 
> \- Ronny

He heard a man yell at someone. 

The man was angry. 

So angry.

He sounded just like his father when he would yell at him. 

Always so angry. 

He didn't even know why he was getting yelled at sometimes. It just happened and then he was left crying until he had exhausted himself. 

The man who was yelling outside stopped and was gone. 

But it lingered with him. 

Roman could still hear it ringing through his mind. 

The way his father would yell at him. 

The stab of his heart he would feel then. 

The one he felt right now. 

The tears that would well up and burn his eyes. 

The ones that were doing it right now. 

All those feelings he would have when it happened when he was younger welled up inside of him. 

Suffocating him. 

Making his chest feel heavy and tight. His heart clenched almost rhythmically. His stomach churned. He felt sick. 

He was about to cry but he wouldn't allow it.

So, he swallowed down the urge to cry. Swallowed down the tears. 

He took several deep breaths, one hand on his stomach. Feeling it rise and fall with his breaths. 

It calmed him down for a little moment. 

That moment passed and those awful feelings were back. 

The anguish. 

The despair.

The hurt. 

He clenched his eyes shut and let out a deep breath, trying to force out the overwhelming emotions. 

It just wouldn't work. They wouldn't go away! 

Go away. Go away! GO AWAY! 

His mind was filled with images of ripping his torso open and just getting rid of everything inside. 

Please, stop. 

In his mind's eye, he saw himself take a knife and stab himself in the stomach over and over again. 

Just fucking stop! 

He brushed his hands through his hair, tugging at it forcefully, whining. 

The jolt of pain that shot through him at the tug felt good.

He did it again. 

And again. 

His scalp started burning from it. A few strands loosened. 

He stopped. Hitting himself on the head instead. 

Once with the hand flat, just smacking it, hard. 

Then once with his hand balled into a fist. 

He punched the side of his head, near his temple. 

It hurt. 

Good. 

He took a few deep breaths again, forcing himself to stop hurting his head.

He was trembling. 

The tears wouldn't stop burning in his eyes. His heart wouldn't stop clenching and stabbing so painfully. 

Why wouldn't it stop? 

Stop!

It was too much. 

Why was this happening? 

His father wasn't here. 

It was just some random fucking man in the alley. 

His father wasn't here! 

Why was he reacting like that? 

Fuck! 

He whined and whimpered again. 

Then he cried out, punching his thighs over and over again until it hurt unbearably much and he couldn't move his legs for a moment. 

A tear found its way out of his eyes. 

He wiped it away immediately and swallowed down the rest of them. 

He was so fucking broken. 

Crazy. 

His parents were right. 

His father was right. 

He was a crazy bastard. 

He dug his nails into his palms. 

Why wouldn't he just stop feeling like this? 

Why?! 

He wanted it to stop so badly. 

The images from before filled his mind, again. 

It would be so easy to just take a knife and end it all like that. 

Wouldn't it be great if he could get rid of those feelings just like that? 

Just ripping them out. 

It hurt so badly.

He wanted them gone. 

He was still whimpering quietly. Hadn't even noticed it. 

What would Victor say if he could see him like this? 

Would he think he was crazy, too? 

Probably. 

Would he not like him anymore? 

Would he not want to be with him anymore? 

But it wasn't the first time he would have broken down in front of Zsasz. 

Usually he was so enraged, though. Letting it out on others and just yelling and destroying whatever or whoever was around him. 

Victor liked that, fueled it even. 

Yet, this was different. 

This was something Zsasz hadn't experienced, yet. 

He should keep it that way. He couldn't bear losing him. 

Just thinking about it had his heart clenching and hammering in his chest, feeling it in his throat. 

He needed to stop thinking. 

He needed to stop feeling. 

Roman took another deep breath, holding it, then exhaling. 

He got up from where he was sitting on the chaise longue. 

His legs were trembling, he felt unsteady. 

He felt like he was floating. 

On autopilot, he went to his minibar and made himself a Martini. 

Usually Zsasz would do that for him. 

He wanted him here. But he also didn't. 

He didn't want Victor to see him like this. But he wanted him to comfort him. Like he always did. 

He growled, taking a sip of his Martini. 

Then, his ears twitched as he heard the door to the loft open and registered Zsasz's familiar footfall as it came closer. 

He was back already? 

It felt like he's just sent him away half an hour ago. 

Maybe he spent longer in this haze than he thought. 

He still felt like he was floating. He was still trembling and feeling unsteady. 

He couldn't let Zsasz notice. 

So, he took another deep breath and forced a smile as Victor was just a few feet away from him, still coming closer. 

"Back already?" He asked, his voice raspy and raw. 

He winced and cleared his throat. 

It all felt and sounded so far away and yet all too close and loud at the same time. 

"You know I can be quick," Zsasz replied, grinning in this charming way of his that showed off his gold teeth. 

Roman nodded, taking another sip of his drink. Stalling. 

"You okay, boss?" He heard Victor ask after a few seconds. 

Or has it been minutes? 

"Yeah," he lied. 

Victor looked at him curiously, knowing he was lying. He couldn't really hide anything from him. He knew him too well. Often times, he even knew him better than he knew himself. 

"Do I need to kill someone?" 

Roman shook his head after a moment of hesitation. His father was still off limits. And he didn't know who the man in the alley actually was. 

"Can I do anything else for you?" 

Why was he talking so fucking loud? It felt so loud. It was grating. Making the spark of rage catch and burst into a roaring flame. 

"JUST FUCKING STOP TALKING! FUCK!" 

Victor flinched, not expecting the outburst, and nodded silently. 

Roman put down his Martini with such force that it clanked loudly and some of the drink sloshed out of the glass. Then he rushed past Victor and into his own room, slamming the door shut. 

He wanted comfort from Victor.

Why couldn't he just get it? 

Why couldn't he just allow that? 

Why did he have to yell at him like that? 

He sunk down onto his bed, sitting on its edge, burying his face in his hands. 

He cried out again, whined and whimpered and scratched his face over and over again, until he couldn't bear the burning feeling of it anymore as he finally registered what he was even doing. 

Promptly, he stopped, whining again. 

He was so fucking pathetic! 

Why wasn't Victor coming after him? 

Why wasn't he looking for him? 

Why wasn't he caring for him, looking after him, comforting him? 

He didn't fucking care after all. 

No. That wasn't true. 

If he didn't care, Roman would be dead already. 

Then Victor wouldn't always come back home. Or do anything he asked of him. 

A few minutes later, he heard a faint knock on his door. 

"Come in," he rasped lowly. 

Victor came in after a moment has passed. 

He just stood there, not moving towards him. 

Roman made a questioning sound, signaling to Zsasz that he could talk. 

"I'm sorry," he whispered. 

Tears burned his eyes once again. 

He shook his head and with a hand gesture, he signalled Victor to come to him. 

Zsasz stepped forward until he stood right next to Roman who pulled him down until he sat on the bed, too. 

Victor wrapped his arms around the other man who was burrowing his face into his neck and gripping his back tightly, driving his nails into it. 

Then Roman started crying. 

Heaving sobs, his throat feeling tight, his chest heavy. He felt like he was suffocating. Every single emotion trying to claw its way out of him through those sobs. 

He cried out. His tears streaming down and dampening his own face and Victor's scarred neck. His nails digging into Victor's back through the shirt even more, bunching up the fabric in his grip. 

Victor rubbed his back soothingly with one hand and combed the other through his hair. 

When Roman calmed down a little, he felt ashamed. Embarrassed. Pathetic. 

He let go of Victor and removed himself from him, not looking at him. 

One of Victor's hands, the one on his back, stayed where it was, still rubbing soothingly. 

"You wanna tell me what happened?" Zsasz asked eventually, it was barely a whisper. 

Roman shook his head. 

Then he sighed, sounding tired and frustrated. 

"Some random fucking guy in the alley yelled and... and it reminded me of my father. When he would-" He stopped for a moment, his voice breaking and fresh tears welling up again. "When he would yell at me, I mean. I- I don't know. It just... set me off. It's so fucking stupid." 

He shook his head again, more forcefully, like he was trying to rid himself of the memory and the emotions that tried to bubble up inside of him, again. 

"I can kill him for you," Victor replied. 

If he meant his father or the stranger, he didn't know. It didn't matter. 

"No. It wouldn't help," he answered. His voice sounded so fucking raw, breaking on every other word. 

Roman was so fucking exhausted. He leaned into Victor, laying his head onto his shoulder. Zsasz let him and leaned his head on the other's, pressing a kiss into his hair. 

'Thank you,' he thought over and over again. He couldn't make himself say it. His throat was tight. He couldn't say it. But he knew that Victor knew how grateful he was for him.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. I hope you enjoyed this anyway? Idk, lol.


End file.
